


Ctrl + F (Second Chances for Beginners)

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bullying, F/M, Gen, Homophobic Language, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Multi, Punk!Dean, hopefully, it's not as angsty as it sounds, nerd!cas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 00:28:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3308906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester is less than enthusiastic about having to move yet again in his senior year, including all that new school drama, but he has little choice and it's still better than what he had before. That doesn't mean he has to actually like it. As long as people leave him alone - and considering his appearance he doesn't think that's going to be too hard - he figures he's going to be alright. So imagine his surprise when for once things actually turn for the better. Now he just has to figure out how to make them stay that way, which 'dude, seriously, so much easier said than done'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ctrl + F (Second Chances for Beginners)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kams_log](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kams_log/gifts).



> Gosh, I'm so nervous about this.  
> So, uh... the chapter titles are inspired by various songs. Chapter contents open and conclude with - hopefully matching - song lyrics.  
> This is my first work in the fandom so... enjoy. (And to quote Dan Howell "please be nice because I'm really sensitive".)
> 
> I'll probably edit this some time, too. If anyone wants to beta that would be ~awesome~, please message me. :)
> 
> [[EDIT 02/11/15: Now new and improved with way less cringeworthy typos or other errors! Yay!!]]

* * *

 

> **They're gonna clean up your looks**   
> **With all the lies in the books**   
> **To make a citizen out of you**   
> **Because they sleep with a gun**   
> **And keep an eye on you, son**   
> **So they can watch all the things you do**

* * *

 

 

 

Dean Winchester heaved a deep, disgruntled sigh when he saw the distant shape of his new school rapidly approaching. Lawrence High looked just as fascinating as your typical High School did, so he couldn't help but fall back into old habits and think 'another year, another school' instead of 'a fresh start' like Sammy, the little nerd, probably did. Well, that wasn't exactly true, he corrected himself. Not the school thing, that was more than accurate. The year thing, however, was normally more like a few months at most. But not anymore, because this time they were actually going to stay. Here. In Kansas. Oh joy.

He pulled into the student paring lot feeling about as enthusiastic as he would have if it were the dentist's and was promptly almost hit by a giant ass black truck. So even that was the same. People didn't ever change, did they? How Sam managed to be so overly excited about school would forever remain a mystery to the older Winchester. The general population consisted mostly of were idiots, so a place where teenagers spent years cooped up being forced to do things they didn't like was bound to be hell on earth. If one believed in hell, that was. While Dean personally didn't, he still couldn't help but compare the boring looking building to what his father probably would have described as perdition or something equally ridiculous.

Then again, ridiculous just was John Winchester's middle name, wasn't it? Dean's mood sunk even lower when he remembered just why exactly he now was at this new school, living in a new town with new guardians, his Uncle Bobby and Aunt Ellen. After spending basically his whole life moving around the states, even occasionally to Canada when all else failed because of his father's inability to settle down again after his wife, Dean and Sam's mother Mary, had died in a house fire Dean was the first to admit that, yes, when it came to his father maybe he was a bit bitter. Sue him.

"-lo, earth to Dean. You still in there?"

Blinking slowly he turned his head around to find his little brother staring at him with a crease between his brows, waving one of his hands in front of Dean's face. Dean batted the appendage away and huffed out an irritated breath.

"Don't be ridiculous, of course I'm still there. Now hit the road, little grasshopper. You're the one who doesn't want to be seen with me," Dean teased, hoping to distract his brother.

It kind of worked. Sammy looked a bit hurt at the accusation, pouting at Dean while he grabbed his backpack and put the book away he had been reading on the drive.

"You know it's not like that, Dean."

"Yes, I know, I'm just pulling your chain. Now get out of my car and remember to text me once you've got your schedule so I know if I should be waiting on you."

Sam obliged, clambering out of the Impala, Dean's pride and joy, grumbling under his breath all the while.

"See you later, bitch!"

"You too, jerk!"

At least Sam didn't think he was too cool for that now.

After a while Dean, too, forced himself to grab his bag and climb out of the car, patting her hood lovingly before making sure she was locked and parked securely. He was about to cross the parking lot’s central lane when another car shot around the corner, only missing him by a few inches. What an awesome way to start the day. "Yo! Watch where you're driving, jackass!" Yes, he knew insulting people was rude, but it wasn't like he cared about that. Also, it wasn't him who had almost run over a fellow student just moments before. Just saying.

Aforementioned jackass didn't take the title too kindly, so Dean quickly walked into the building to avoid further trouble. It wasn't like he needed a violent disagreement with a brain-dead wannabe jock on his first day at the new school. He wandered aimlessly around the halls, still in search of something like a head office when he bumped into something. Well, someone, he figured when the resounding 'thud' was immediately followed by a soft "Ouch!". Apparently he had run into a be-trenchcoated phantom - and seriously, where did the guy even come from? - who was now scrambling to pick up what looked like the contents of a whole library.

"Oh man, I'm so sorry. I didn't watch where I was going, I should have paid more attention," he quickly apologized, dropping to his knees to help pick up the giant book collection that was now scattered across several feet around them. When that got him exactly no reaction he looked up from his spot on the floor to find his victim staring at him with wide, surprisingly blue eyes. Like, really, really blue. Dean shook his head to get those thoughts out of it.

"You okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?" After a few more moments of intense staring the other boy seemed to come to his senses, shaking his head as well before coughing and drooping his eyes.

"No, I am not injured. This collision is hardly your fault, though, I should have been more aware of my surroundings as well. I'm afraid I was a bit too engrossed in my reading. My apologies," he rushed out, hastily reaching for as many books as he could fit in his arms, trying to get them reorganized but failing horribly in his haste.

Dean blinked a few times, not quite able to take in what the boy was actually saying because of the rapid speech combined with the way he was speaking. Dean was all but used to complicated phrases thrown into normal sentences, Sammy liked to talk like a mini-professor if only to get on his nerves, but aside from the occasional ancient English teacher he hadn't heard somebody talk like that in ages. He couldn't help but grin. The guy was absolutely endearing. Of course, his looks didn't hurt either.

"It's okay, I get it. Nothing more exciting than a good book, am I right?"

He got a tentative nod in reply, but Mr. Mystery was still preoccupied with his books so Dean followed his example and gathered some more in his own arms. It didn't seem like he was going to get anything from the guy without prompt, though, so he kept the questions up.

"So, you got a pretty name to go with that pretty face or am I going to have to keep calling you Mr. Mystery in my head?" Dean winked, and at last that got an immediate reaction.

"My name is Castiel Novak," the other boy mumbled, blushing beet red and dropping one of his books again.

Dean smiled, trying to calm him down a bit. He knew he had an effect of some kind on most people, some of them frightened, some pissed off, some even attracted, but he didn't want to scare this guy away. Castiel seemed nice, if a bit buttoned up. Dean picked up the book again and held it out for Castiel to take.

"Hello there, Cas. Can I call you Cas?"

"I... yes, you, uh, can..." Castiel stammered, eyes still wide but carefully reaching out for the book. "Thanks."

"Well then, nice to meet you, Cas. I'm Dean. Winchester, that is. Also, I’m new here. And I can't find the secretary's office. Could you show me?"

He took a few more books from Castiel's steadily growing pile - and how he'd managed to carry them in the first place was a mystery to Dean, he alone was carrying five and Castiel's arms were still overflowing with them. He couldn't help but stare. Half-hidden behind the mountain Castiel looked far smaller than he really was, but if Dean had to guess he'd say that Castiel was taller than average, maybe about 8 feet, definitely not much shorter than a few inches than himself.

"Dude, are you an octopus or are you just extremely good at balancing stuff?"

Castiel blushed again, though this time a small smile broke through. "I guess I just have a lot of experience," he replied, shrugging around the high stacks of reading material in his arms. "I'm terribly sorry for bothering you with this, I wouldn't have gotten them all at once but I woke up too late today and the library closes in the afternoon so I had to get them before first period. It would seem that my older brother Luke deemed turning off my alarm an appropriate prank to play on me, otherwise I would have thought to plan this through and- oh no, I'm sorry, I- I didn't mean to load this all off on you, I-…”

Castiel's rushed rambling came to a sudden stop when he realized that he was probably bothering the new student with his trivial babbling so he quickly snapped his mouth shut.

But Dean just chuckled to himself softly. It looked like Castiel's speech pattern differed from a normal human's. Either he wasn't talking at all, or he was talking a lot, but there didn't seem to be an in-between, not that he minded.

"Naw man, don't worry, it's really nothing. I couldn't care less. It's awesome you're so passionate about books," Dean said easily, giving his trademark smirk when they had reached Castiel's locker. While he was busy stashing the books away Dean noticed a guy standing in the corner of the hallway, leering over at them. At Cas, to be precise. In a really rude and creepy way. The cold stare made him shiver involuntarily - it reminded him a lot of his own father's and wow, wasn't that just fifty shades of fucked up - and he poked Castiel in the side, pointing over to where the douche was still lurking.

"Who's that lovely fella? And why's he staring at you like you're food?"

Castiel shifted uneasily, his hands tightening around the big volume in his hands to the point where it had to be uncomfortable.

"His name is Alastair. …I don't want to assume, that would be very disrespectful of me, but you look like you can easily handle yourself in a fight and wouldn't step away from a challenge, which is why I'm warning you now. Stay away from him. He has this 'gang'," Castiel's hands let go of the book to actually make air quotes and Dean had to fight hard to suppress a grin, "and they have been tormenting the ...less popular part of the student body for four years now."

Dean narrowed his eyes and turned back around, but the sleazy figure was gone now.

"Great. Awesome. A bully. Just what the world needs."

If there was one thing Dean couldn't stand then it was bullies. He himself had actually always fit in surprisingly well with his peers, even after he started wearing ripped clothes, or make-up. Even when he started dyeing his hair in crazy colors nobody spoke up. As his piercing collection progressed some people raised their eyebrows, sure, but still now that he had more artificial holes in his head than real ones most guys - and girls, for that matter - his age just thought it was cool. He rarely ever got shoved around, and if he did it was a one time occasion because he knew how to scare bullies away. Growing up with one as a father made you learn how to fight for your survival. However, growing up with a nerd like Sammy for a little brother who was targeted for not being an idiot like the rest of the world at least twice a day made you hate bullies with a passion most of their victims couldn't even think of.

But his train of thought was interrupted when he felt someone's hand on his shoulder. He startled and looked around for potential attackers only to find that it was Castiel who looked at him with his head tilted, those scarily blue eyes narrowed as well.

"Dean. I mean it. Do not go after them. It's not worth it," he insisted, staring intently as if that could make Dean change his mind.

Of course it didn't work, but considering that Castiel had been at this school longer than Dean he relented. For now, at least. "Alright, how about a compromise? I won't go after them, but if I see them targeting someone I get to intervene. Deal?"

Castiel sighed deeply, closing his locker and double checking twice that it really was closed before turning back to face Dean.

"Yes, I suppose I can live with that. As long as you are careful."

Dean rolled his eyes once more and nodded.

"Fine then. If you still want me to show you to the administration office follow me."

And that's how Dean Winchester, punk extraordinaire found himself trailing like a lost puppy after Castiel Novak, first degree nerd.

 

 

* * *

 

> **Teenagers scare the living shit out of me**   
> **They could care less as long as someone will bleed**   
> **So darken your clothes or strike a violent pose**   
> **Maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me**

* * *

 

 

 

A few horribly dragging hours later Dean found himself in Lawrence High's cafeteria, staring at the food on his plate as if it was about to eat him instead of the other way around. Though maybe food was a term used a bit too loosely with the ...stuff he was supposed to eat. After a silent debate whether going to class hungry was better than going to class with food poisoning he decided that he'd rather be starving but alive, so he discarded the tablet and went outside, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and fishing for the lighter.

Once he stepped outside he breathed deeply for a few moments, relishing in the peace and quiet outside that resulted from nobody being around-

"Hey, faggot! Watch where you're going!"

Dean groaned. Not again.

He absentmindedly wondered why bullies always seemed to target their victims when he was nearby. Was he a bully-magnet or something or were they simply even more moronic than he thought? With a more than annoyed growl he stuffed the cigarette back into the box, keeping the lighter nearby - you never knew when you needed it, after all - and marched into the direction of the obnoxiously loud voices. When he was within hearing distance he leaned against the school's exterior wall and called out, "Just a thought, but how about you piss off if you don't have anything to say, huh?"

"Mind your own business, newbie, or else you'll have to deal with the wrath of Big Daddy!" one of them shouted, waving his fist around like a three year old.

Dean blinked and stopped in his tracks for a moment. What the hell? Were the assholes at this school wasted? He shook his head, once, then twice, but still he couldn't help but stare in disbelief at the guy who was now sporting a smug grin, obviously extremely pleased at his clever retort.

"This can't be happening. I'm just having a really bizarre dream. People can't actually be that crazy," Dean mumbled, gawking at the group of brainless individuals crowding their victim. But alas, when he slapped his hand to his forehead on a combination of a facepalm and a 'please, if there is a God, let me wake up from this bizarre nightmare' everything stayed the same. The guy in their hold was still trembling, the bullies were still laughing and Dean was still questioning their sanity. With a resigned huff he continued his trek towards the group, digging the heels of his trusty Doc Martens into the grass to relieve some of his frustrations.

"Alright, I'm saying this only once. Turn around and walk away now and I'll forget about this mind-blowingly stupid incident," he warned, though he knew they wouldn't do that. But, unlike them, Dean was a fair fighter and he didn't go around beating oblivious idiots up without actually giving them a chance to save their stupid skin.

"You think you can beat us, fairy? We're five and you're one, we're gonna tear you to shreds!"

Dean groaned. This 'fight' was getting more and more ridiculous with every passing second. How was he supposed to take them seriously if any available elementary school student could have outwitted them?

He scoffed. "No, I know I can beat you. I just thought I'd play nice first. …Also, what kind of insult is 'fairy'? Are you actually three year olds, or do you just miss Kindergarten a lot?"

And yes, contrary to popular belief, he knew not to tease his opponents in a fight, but he couldn't resist the temptation. These five were just too idiotic not to mock. Case in point: the one who had been holding up their victim was currently dropping the short, scrawny guy, who was all but forgotten as all five of them charged towards him with a shout that could have either been 'I'll fuck you up' or 'I've lost my pup’ or something else entirely... Dean wasn't too sure.

He dropped into a more fight appropriate stance, letting all his father's lessons wash through his head, shifting his weight onto the lead foot, bending his knees a bit, holding his arms properly, the usual crap. He had stopped a good distance away from them deliberately, which now gave him enough time to prepare himself for the fight while they came running towards him. That was another thing. In every kind of combat sport the very first thing you learn is not to attack. Never, ever attack because a) you're the lesser individual and b) you give your opponent time to prepare himself and analyze your fighting style. Though they admittedly they lacked the 'style' part of that it still wasn't any brighter of them. Probably even more stupid, not that he had expected any grandiose actions anytime soon.

When the first fist flew for his face he ducked to the side, grabbing another bully's kicking leg in the process and twisting it around until the attached guy was lying face first in the dirt, crawling away and moaning in exaggerated pain. Dean gave an annoyed huff - contrary to them he actually did know what he was doing, and while the move was intended to be painful that kind of reaction just meant that not only the bullies at this school were idiots but also wimps. He blocked the next punch with his right arm, grabbing the hand and using the attached limb to block the resulting attack, then turned around to shove the now bawling guy backwards. Two down, three to go.

He could see two of the in front of him, which probably meant the the third one was hoping to attack from behind. He kept a close eye on the two idjits, as Uncle Bobby would have called them, in his line of sight while bracing for impact. And he wasn't disappointed, only moments later schmuck no. 3 came jumping on his back. Dean went with the flow of the movement, using the attacker's energy and grabbing his arm. He pulled hard while simultaneously ducking a bit. He was almost disappointed when the guy rolled over his back with barely any effort on his side. This fight wasn't fun at all.

At least it meant the the remaining two were to preoccupied with trying to formulate a plan of attack in their pea brains to notice their victim scrambling away to safety in a haste. Small victories.

They remaining two circled around him like baby hyenas, almost adorable in their futile attempts to look dangerous. They came at him moments later, apparently just hoping that wildly windmilling limbs would win this fight. Dean stayed put until the very last moment, slipping out between their bodies and watching in glee as they literally knocked themselves out. He couldn't help but snort. This was probably the most laughable attempt at fighting him he'd ever had to suffer through. He didn't even have to use any offensive moves, simple blocking, pulling and shoving was enough to get them to scramble away as if they had devil himself on their shoulders. Dean breathed deeply a few times, then plopped down onto the grass with an eye roll. So much for not fighting on the first day.

 

 

* * *

 

> **The boys and girls in the clique**   
> **The awful names that they stick**   
> **You're never gonna fit in much, kid**   
> **But if you're troubled and hurt**   
> **What you got under your shirt**   
> **Will make them pay for the things that they did**

* * *

 

 

 

After that the rest of Dean's school day ran more or less smoothly. The bullies' victim, Garth, as it turned out, was more than happy not to be beaten up and thanked Dean non-stop for at least ten minutes before the other boy even managed to get a word in edgewise.

"-But seriously, I think you're the first to stand up to them since Luke Novak and even he was a few years older than them, not to mention that was about five years ago now so they kind of assume they have the right to shove everyone around and nobody can really do something against it because they're, like, twenty - at least! - and they've beaten up everyone who dared to disagree with them since then so really, I can't thank you enough, it's-"

But whatever it was Dean didn't want to find out because Garth looked like he was about to pass out from lack of oxygen. He grabbed the shorter boy by the shoulders, forcing him to turn around and face Dean, effectively cutting off his rushed rambling.

"Dude. Breathe."

Garth nodded, gulped in a deep breath - and went on as if nothing ever happened.

"Anyway, I just need to warn you because you seem like a cool dude, but they'll probably come back for you now. I mean, really, thank you so much for getting me out of this but I feel kind of bad for you now. Not that you can't defend yourself or anything, I don't want to insult you, you look like a really skilled fighter but, you know, they don't take too kindly to people standing up to them and now that you've associated yourself with a... loser like me your looks won't protect you from them anymore and I don't-"

"Garth! Stop. Just stop. You're not a fucking loser, don't ever say that again. Yeah, so maybe you can't hold your own in a fight. Who cares. On the other hand, you'll get out of this dump and become something better than them, so who's really the loser?"

Spending most of Sammy's academic career trying to reassure him that no, being smart isn't bad and not beating people up like their father and most of the bullies at school did is in fact not bad either, no matter what that father says paid off now. Dean had always had a problem seeing good kids like Sammy get pulled down and pushed around so Garth's tentative smile felt far more rewarding than winning the actual ‘fight’.

"...Not me?" Garth squeaked, though it sounded more like a question than a statement. Dean wondered if Garth knew Cas. His morning run-in was still on the forefront of his mind. After showing him to the administration office Dean had grinned and thanked Cas, who had given a questioning little wave that Dean had promptly returned with a wink.

Back in the present Dean grinned back at Garth. "You can do better than that. Come one, once more with feeling."

"Not me."

"You got it, buddy." He threw his arm around Garth's pointy shoulders and steered him away from the now loudly wailing group of jocks that had attacked them before - as easy as beating them in a fight had been Dean really wasn't out for a repeat performance at the moment.

"If you want to I can introduce you to my friends. I mean, they're all...-" Sensing what Garth was about to say Dean clamped a hand over his mouth, cutting in. "Don't say it, man." "...Uh, geeky? ...They're all like me."

"Yeah, and my little bro is also just like you. Garth, I don't give a flying fuck. If your friends are nice they're nice, end of story."

And that's how it came that Dean found himself sitting at a crowded table with Garth's friends. There was Garth himself, a junior, Charlie, a redheaded senior like Dean who, as he found out was in his English Literature class, Kevin, a biology-obsessed freshman who also had a strong affinity for mathematical equations, and Chuck, a slightly nervous and twitchy, but overall nice junior. They spent most of the time debating what part of any potential damage to the Batmobile would the worst, the actual damage to the car or the emotional harm to the associated superhero. Dean was glad to find he could join in on the discussion. By the time the tardy bell rang they were caught in such a heated discourse that they all almost missed it, scrambling out of the cafeteria last minute in a hurry. Before he darted around the corner Garth called out a quick "We'd be happy to have you again tomorrow!" and then he was gone.

Dean received Sammy's time table during his last class of the day. He only had one class more than Dean, so after they were officially dismissed Dean headed to the Impala to wait for him. He pulled out his pink mp3-player and Vonnegut's 'The Cat's Cradle' and spent the remaining forty-five minutes re-reading his favorite parts.

**Author's Note:**

> Stay tuned for the next update, whenever I manage to actually get there. Sorry, I just have a really tight schedule at the moment and this was so not planned. Until then, have a magnificent day! :)
> 
> \---
> 
> [[Also, @kams_log: This is all your fault - seriously, don't ever ask me for headcanons, you will definitely not like the results - so now you'll have to deal with the sucky consequences. This, to be precise. (I really, really hope you like it at least a tiny little bit, though.)]]
> 
> \---


End file.
